


Genetic Emancipation

by To_Shiki



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Breastfeeding, Breeding, F/M, Feminization, Group Sex, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Past, Public Sex, forced male to female in previous story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 14:27:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17562191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/To_Shiki/pseuds/To_Shiki
Summary: A continuation of Let the Monster Rise.  Dorian's no more.  Now it's Lady Crystaline and the Iron Bull attempting to make a baby.  They try so hard.





	Genetic Emancipation

****Let the Monster Rise part 2** **

 

It was no secret what they were trying to do.  They weren’t even remotely quiet about it.  Didn’t shy away from public displays (although it took her a while to get accustomed to it)   _ _Everyone__  knew what was going on as a result.

Some of them were outright encouraging it: the Chargers, the Inner Circle, the Boss.  Dozens of the staff came up with names or tips of what to do to help things along.  Those who didn’t were the outsiders, the ones visiting Skyhold for the first time in hopes of becoming allies.  People who just didn’t understand how the couple, now happily married, could possibly work.

In the Herald’s Rest, surrounded by his Chargers, it was openly cheered.  Early on she was teasingly shy.  Would only sit on one thick thigh, rotating her hips like the sensual yet refined lady that she was.  Gradually things progressed.  Thigh straddling turned to lap, back of her skirts bunched up around her waist.  Soaked panties easily ripped away to give his cock free reign.  Quietly she would rock her hips, praying that the disorderly crowd would not only drown out her little whimpers, but also be oblivious to how flushed she was.

No such luck.  Not with the Chargers surrounding them.  As soon as one notices its a domino effect.  Soon all of them are cheering the couple on.

The nice slow pace she had going is no more.  Hands larger than her manly sizes ones grip her hips tight and __lift.__   Within seconds the Iron Bull sets a brutal pace, fucking into her slick, welcoming hole like it was made for him.

Which, in a manner of speaking, it __was__.

The magic creams the boss had found for them, used when Crystaline was still stuck as Dorian - as a man - had worked wonders.  It gave her breasts, shrunk her useless cocklet down to a proper size, and when combined with a couple spells widened her hips.

All around the pair, Chargers and bar patrons alike exchange coins, betting on multiple things.  Will this be the time she’ll slap him for taking her in public (like he does every night).  If her magically-enlarged breasts will finally slip free of the confines of her low-cut dress (and dribble warm milk for some lucky Charger to drink).  Will this be it - the fuck that __finally__  gets her pregnant (like what they’ve been trying for since the defeat of Corypheus all those months ago).

She hasn’t slapped him yet, in all the months since he’s started fucking her in the safety of their little corner of the ‘Rest.  Not even the times when he’s thrown her onto the dirty table and plowed into her.  He’s gotten earfuls from ruining her dress or hairstyle of the day.  But his purse is heavy with the work they provide for the Inquisitor and their allies.

A dozen times she has slipped out of the top of her dresses.  The front cut too low and the Iron Bull none too gentle when they’re in public.  Several patrons had started privately referring to her as Lady Bigtits instead of the more elegant Lady Crystaline.  It was no secret that she uses her magic to fill her breasts with milk, for the Inquisitor’s newborn.  Or those close to the Iron Bull.  She’s wound up with both breasts flopping out, quickly caught between the lips and teeth of __their__  Boys each night.

As for getting knocked up…

Well, the Iron Bull knows it’s just not possible.  Not yet.  His beautiful lady had been born in the wrong body, after all.  It’s not her fault.  She’s working on finding the spell that will make their fondest dream come true.   _ _Without__  resorting to blood magic like her dearest father had attempted so long ago.

That doesn’t stop him from trying.  Doesn’t stop him from standing up, bringing her with him so she has to slam her palms on the table to brace herself.  He can’t help whispering, “Think it’ll stick this time?  You gonna carry a big, strong babe in you for me?” into her ear, groaning loudly as she clenches down on him.

“Oh please,” is all she can whisper back between thrusts.  She can barely catch her breath from the combined forces of his vigorous loving and her corset.

Bets are won and lost as the couple finishes.  The Iron Bull doesn’t get slapped.  Lady Crystaline’s too wrung out to lift her hand that high.  Only one breast jiggled its way free (with some help from the Bull).  And the last one…

Well, it’s up in the air, isn’t it?

Arguments break out in the background over the second bet as the Bull sits back down in his seat.  His cock’s still hard inside her, balls working overtime to pump everything they’ve got into her welcoming heat.  One hand rubs over her flat belly, randomly drifting down to rub at her twitching little clit.  The other offers up her freed nipple, cooing encouragement to them both as the nearest Charger starts to suckle on her milk-filled teat.

~*~

In the throne room their activities are actively discouraged during the times the Inquisitor’s dealing with the commoners and delegates from surrounding nations.  Not because the Inquisitor frowns upon what they do, but he knows that those prostrating themselves in front of him would be too distracted.

The Iron Bull still tries to fuck her in there anyways.  He loves seeing how vocal he can make her, how long it takes until her composure breaks.  It’s always a thrilling challenge to see if anything can be lit on fire again.  Usually he’ll point out an annoying dignitary or two.  Sometimes an ugly tapestry that had been gifted to the boss.  Then he sets out to drive her mad with words and fingers.

Mostly, he was tired of hearing people insulting his lady.  Even over her dulcet whimpers and breathy gasps, his sharp hearing could pick up their cruel words.

“How could she lie with such a beast?” a few court ladies had complained.

“Why him and not me?” a few nobles had bemoaned.

When he hears words like those, he makes sure that they all can see how much pleasure he can give her just by whispering filth into her ears.  How her body trembles, her thighs rub together, visible even under her skirts.  Gloved hands clenching tightly onto her staff for support.

“Haven’t you heard?  She’s Tevinter born and raised.  I’m sure she’s more than used to having her __beast__  of choice mounting her at all times of the day,” a newcomer sniffs contemptuously, fanning herself as the others surrounding her mumble mindless agreements.

“What else would want her in their bed anyways?  She’s probably here because she’s too low class for anyone back in Tevinter.  The Inquisitor must have given her to that brute as a way to keep her in line.  Everyone knows what the qunari do to mages,” another haughtily agrees, sipping from his glass of weak wine.

The Iron Bull shares a glance with his boss, silently making sure he has permission, before letting his lady know of what’s being said of her.  This time his whispers don’t have her moaning out his name, or wetting her smalls.  This time they make her angry.  No one says such things about her and her loving husband and gets away with it.

With all the grace bred into her at such a young age, Lady Crystaline proceeds to cut them down.  First attacking their politics, then their person.  

The ladies she renders speechless by informing them __just how gloriously thick and strong__  her ‘beast’ is.  How every day and night, he pleasures both her body and mind.  Her ‘beast’ always checks in with her, making sure that he’s only hurting her when she wants to be.  How he waits on her hand and foot, doing everything he can to ensure she’s not only able to carry his child, but that she __wants__  to.

The men, she leads around, like puppies on a leash until they stood side by side of the Iron Bull.  Once lined up, she rips into their egos, effectively destroying any hope they held for getting under her very fashionable skirts.  She compares the heft of their purses to the Bull’s balls, letting them know in no uncertain terms, that coin and status mean nothing if it’s to compensate in… __other areas__.

Every snobbish noble was delicately cut down into bite sized pieces, with the Inquisitor’s permission.  Each one left the hall of judgement with their figurative tails between their legs, and nothing to show but whatever agreement or treaty they’d signed their nations away to the ruler of Skyhold and the savior of their world.

Once the hall was cleared for the evening, then the real fun would start.  Josephine, having recovered from her pregnancy and birthing of the Inquisitor’s first heir, would neatly put away her things.  Crystaline waits for her to finish before helping her undress.  Hands free, Josephine returns the gesture and together they unwrap each other for their men’s pleasure.

Breasts sagging from the weight of their milk, nipples taut and leaking.  Smooth skin goosepimpling in the drafty castle air.  Hands lovingly stroke all over as corsets and underclothes are fully removed.  Clad only in their stocking and heels, neither woman minds too much when they’re joined by much warmer bodies.

Crystaline can’t help but brush her fingertips against the stretched out skin at Josephine’s waist.  Three months after the birth of her son and she still needs an extra corset to hid the afterbirth.  The skin covering her stomach forms thick ripples, stretch marks zigzagging every which way.  Hands calloused by staff-work gently palm the loose skin, kneading the tense muscles along the other woman’s waist and lower back.

Both women hold onto each other, arms around shoulders and breast to breast, as their husbands thoroughly pleasure themselves.  Bare skin glistens with sweat, chest growing damp as beads of milk dribble out of their sore nipples.  Stone walls and a high ceiling echo their gasps and moans and the slapping of skin against skin.

Each thrust presses the four of them together.  Each time they’re forced close, their husbands whisper sweetly, breathlessly, into their ears.

Each time they were finished with their women, they laid them gently on the pile of fabric on the ground.  Large calloused hands maneuver them so plump lips could clean up any spilled seed.  Tongues were used to push it all back in.  When enough time had been deemed passed, the Iron Bull and the Inquisitor help their women back up, putting their mouths at the right level to clean off their soft cocks.

~*~

It all started when Josie, exhausted and stressed due to an upcoming banquet, placed the wailing heir to Skyhold into Crystaline’s arms.  The poor woman was unable to feed her child due to her duty wearing her down.  She knew, thanks to whispered words from the Inquisitor, that mages knew many kinds of __useful__  spells and ‘Could you please help him, m’lady?  I’m so sorry.  I have to-’

The Lady Crystaline had silenced Josephine with a simple shake of her head.  A quiet muttering of words memorized from a time __before,__ when her body was the wrong shape, had the front of Crystaline’s gown growing darker from the dampness spreading.  Loosening and pulling down the front of her bodice, she held the month old babe to her leaking nipple.

Josephine had watched in amazement and frustration at how easily her friend began feeding her child.  She’d left with a huffed statement of returning as soon as possible before she could let her emotions and tongue slip something they’d both later regret.

Much later, after dealing with staff and delegates alike, the frazzled mother delayed in retrieving her child.  Taking the time she needed to unwind and think things through, she waited until her son was due for another feeding to search out the Tevinter mage.

Together the two of them discussed what’s going on as they sat by the fire.  Josephine explaining how she’d gone back to her duties (much too soon, she admits now).  Crystaline explaining the adventurous nature of living within a Circle and the mischief to be had.  

Together the two of them come up with a solution to Josephine’s problem.  Within a week’s time, Crystaline’s able to find a way to make the spell semi-permanent.  A lifespan of two weeks is perfect for the both of them.

While Crystaline’s up in the library working on her research, she can help feed the babe as his mother works to keep their people organized and happy.  While the child’s back in his mother’s loving arms, the Iron Bull gets a reminder of what the result of all their hard work will be.

~*~

After that, the rest was history.

They had __tried__  to keep it quiet.  Really, they did.  They kept their attempts to their rooms or tent.

The Iron Bull would fuck his new wife until she was so full she looked like her belly was about to explode.  He would plug her up with a nice thick plug.  Laying her down onto a pile of pillows he would take his time worshiping her rounded belly, kissing the little stretch marks crawling their way along her tanned skin.  Lick and suck at her little clit until she was weeping and shaking in pleasure.

He’d stretch out alongside her, elbow propping his head, and the two of them would caress taut skin.  When her breasts grew too full from the spell, her loving husband gladly helped her out, suckling until she was no longer pained from being too full.  

Months pass as they worked towards their goal.  At times tempers flared at the lack of results.  Others had them lovingly fucking their way through the night.  Messages were sent out weekly in hopes of someone sending in the tomes Crystaline required.

One chilly evening, long past the evening fuck in the hall, a messenger arrives.  He’s dusty from the road and exhausted.  With orders to deliver his package as quickly as possible left him little time to rest.

Cleared by the guards, he dashes up the winding stairs of the library to a candle lit alcove.  There, panting and sweaty, he falls to his knees.  Bowing his head before the gorgeous woman before him, he raises the leather-bound item.

Silently she takes it from him.  While he stays there, kneeling and struggling to catch his breath, she unties the knots.  One hand gracefully waves his attention over to the pitcher of water on her desk and the empty cup beside it.  The other… the other traces over the words carefully engraved onto the cover.

Once he’s regained himself, Lady Crystaline hands him several gold coins.  Calling over a nearby servant, she directs them to show the young man to the nearest clean room for him to rest.  As the two head off, she can’t help the gleeful smile spreading across her face.

__Finally._ _


End file.
